Rose in the Hourglass
by LoveKentucky
Summary: Jake lives a normal life with his Arborist mother. They transfer into different places studying forests and trees for as long as he can remember. But his life is about to change as soon as he gets this peculiar nightmares that would haunt him each night.


**Prologue**

I was in a crowded train, so crowded that my lungs barely have the space to expand whenever I breathe. I was stuck in a corner seat, feeling awkward while purposely squeezing myself farther to avoid people from bumping on me as they come and go.

Words of regret began to fill in my head – "I should've taken a cab.", "If I should've known.", "I just want to get off now!" – unfortunately, being able to do nothing makes it even worst. Then suddenly, a voice began to announce that the train's arriving in some place that shouldn't even be on the route I'm heading, on top that, the announcer seem to be talking in a language I barely recognize, but then understand much of it.

"_Arriving at for eth doo stion._" the announcement was a little fuzzy however, as if coming from an old radio with an extremely bad reception, being able to catch only a few lines "_Th ill ar end. Please don't forget t your persona rain, ank you._"

Just a few seconds passed, I was left alone inside the train cabin, wondering where on earth people have gone. I tried to peek in the window, but all I can see was an endless stretch of wheat field on both sides.

I decided to stay and wait for the train to move on, but minutes passed, half an hour, it didn't moved a single bit. The doors remained open, as if waiting for me to get off. Feeling suspicious and curious, I moved cautiously towards the familiar metallic door frame, and finally, and hesitantly, I dared one step outside. But at the same moment, everything was suddenly engulfed into utter darkness – the train vanished, so as the wheat field, all that was left is a vast space of pitch black emptiness, leaving me suspended in midair.

Dread and panic began to take over me, I wanted to scream out for help, but I just can't find my voice. Why at a time like this? What is this place? Then I started to fall off, continuously falling into what seem like a bottomless pit of darkness.

Sooner, when the sun finally made a peek at the horizon, I will wake on my sleep screaming, drenched in sweat, and feeling all terrified.

Chapter One

Strange Dilemma

I live with my mom in a small apartment at Dong Chen District in Beijing, China. Just a few blocks away from our flat is the Beijing Police Museum where I used to go each afternoon after my class. Its not really the police stuff that I am attracted in that place, I just love to observe people, to listen how they talk to each other, the way they speak in mandarin (since I don't speak in mandarin myself), and some other language I barely understand.

Just a few months ago, me and my mom traveled all the way from Wales (not our original place) to China for her job. She works as an Arboriculturalist, and If you're trying to pronounce that word now, I might as well advice you to do some other things that is far more productive, 'cos it took me several months myself to finally say it right.

Anyway, an Arboriculturalist, or Aborists are people who practice arboriculture which is the cultivation, management and studying of individual trees, shrubs, vines, and perennial woody plants. What does perennial wood plants you might ask are those plants which lives for more than two years usually large trees such as Oaks and Olivewoods (seen it on google).

Ever since I'm eight, my mom and I got to go into many places all over the world to study forest trees. She makes a record of them, determining how long they've lived, checking whether they are healthy or sick (yes, tress get sick too), and whether the environment suits them. I get to go with her anywhere, so having the word "permanent" in my vocabulary is unnecessary since we always move into places, every fours months at most, the longest was a year.

My dad on the other hand, died in a car accident just before my mom gives birth to me (or at least that's what she used tell me). All that I know about him is that he used to work as a Hollywood star (which Im pretty suspicious about and proud at the same time), and that he met my mom in one of his wilderness movie, with her being the guide in some forest in Africa. When I try to ask her more about him, she would get all teary and upset. All that she would say is, "He's a very responsible man." then she would make a sad face (it means its time to drop the subject). I sometimes suspects that she's making all this up, but when I used show people his picture, people would say, "I've seen him somewhere. Might be on TV. Lucky you for being his son, kid." which made me even suspicious.

His probably on his thirty's on that photo, he's got a hazel brown hair in a classic 50's haircut on which the side hair are slightly longer and bushier, his eyes were the color of the sea during summer, the color of emerald going jade. His got a _"very sweet smile"_ as my mother would put it, and he has this usual leading man posture – an average muscular to semi-slim body build.

Thankfully, my mom raised me to be a normal kid and not the type who's only living up for the expectations of others and following a famous father's shadow. Transferring to different places in short period of time helped to erase the celebrity image in our system. We don't talk much about him on the first place, but not to an extent that he is already forgotten. My mother would always remind me how good he is, and how he have thought about us even before he died. This made me contented and reassured that even without him here, he will always be _there_ somewhere watching over us.

"Haye! You'll be late for school." That's my mom calling by the kitchen, probably preparing for breakfast. By the way, my name is Jacob Gutierez, but my mom used to call me 'Haye', and I don't know why that is.

I was still on bed, flopped up, and half asleep. I've been getting the same dream for the last three years, and last night was the worst. It put me wide awake for the rest of the night, and not only a few hours before dawn, I finally be able to get back to sleep. I can feel the warmth of sunlight touching the side of my face, as well as the lively chirping of birds just outside my window, so I guess it's already morning. My class usually starts at exactly 9:00 in the morning, if I take the metro, it will only take me five to ten minutes to get there.

"I'm off to Mrs. Ling today," my mom shouted at my door, "she's got three cypresses on her back yard. It may take me the whole day to study them. Will you be okay by yourself for dinner?"

I began to stir on my bed, spilling most of the books and papers I usually forget to set aside before I finally drifted to sleep. Its may be because of my mom's work that influenced me to like reading books about forests and making records of each trees that is within it by making simple illustrations of them in paper, and listing few basic facts about them. Above all else, it's been one of my hobbies that I will not live without.

I stretched, rubbed the drowsiness out of my eyes, then grunted just in time to hear her stalk away. A few minutes later, I heard the sound of our front door opening as mental wind chimes banged each other noisily, then finally closing once again. I decided that it's about time to get up, when an explosion, or was it the sound of a fallen object, that filled the room and sent me jumping towards the farthest corner of my room.

"What the - " I cursed, looking at the cloud of dust swirling around my fallen door.

Trust me, ever since we moved in in China, this became a weekly routine, and most often regarded as normal occurence. I get it once or twice every week. The door frame is too old to hold the door itself. So it usually falls off without notice. The good side is, every time it falls off no one's around near it so that it never harms anyone unless you have a serious heart illness. Mom referred the problem to our landlord several times already. He tried to fix it but then, its even getting worst.

Thanks to that, I'm now fully awake. I sometimes think of it as sort of like my alarm clock or something. Speaking of clock, this could be the hardest part of being a non-morning person: looking what time is it. I dared to peek on the digital clock that rested on my study table, and it says 8:43AM. It took me a few seconds to realize how dead late I am.

"Mr. Wei will kill me!" I rushed towards the bathroom, wash myself as fast as I can, put on my old faded jeans and a Colorado shirt, grabbed some bread my mom prepared before leaving, and then off to the usual place – the train station.

I reached the station panting. There weren't much people today, which is weird. I don't expect this less people not until weekends, and not especially during Mondays. Every day, fifteen thousand people take the metro to go on with their own businesses, which always makes the station full, and it should be.

I didn't need to buy tickets, and join a long queue since most students and employees can buy this commuter's card called "Octopus". It's like a credit card that you can fill in with electronic money, you can use it to most transportation unit in China, its pretty handy if you ask me. So I went directly to the metal barred entrance, I fished for my Octopus card in my pocket, then swiped it on the magnetic censor thing of which I don't know what they call. After the beep, the metal pipes that blocks people of getting in drops down, allowing you to pass through the waiting area.

Even at the waiting area, which is always jam packed most of the time, has a few passengers in it. I dared yet another peek at the station clock, it says 8:56AM. That's it, I'm officially late. I stared blankly at the railway as I waited for the train. Usually an old lady with a peculiar church dress with too much frills on it would be smiling at me and sometimes saying things that I couldn't even understand - I just nodded for respect. But apparently, she isn't anywhere to be found today.

Sometimes at winter, even at passed 10, a thin veil of fog wraps around the city, covering most of the skyscrapers, and the blue sky above. Then a few minutes passed noon, snow will begin to fall. But this time seems different. It was foggy, yet it was only near winter, just the middle of October.

After what seemed like eternity, the train finally arrived.

Surprisingly, for the very first time since I've taken a ride at this same train, I finally had a chance to take a full row of seat all by my self. Mostly, each cabin would be crowded with people, leaving only the doors section enough space for the boarding and leaving passengers. I usually stood somewhere near it, holding on one of the metal poles for balance. I never get a chance to sit.

However comfortable and odd it may feel seating in an empty cabin all by yourself, the peculiarity of it all still never misses to haunt me. Putting aside one thing that you are very well used to seem a matter so strange and quite foreign (that aside, the experience of great leisure). Well, since I'm here, I decided to just enjoy the ride while it last.

One great thing about trains in China is its luxurious ambiance. Even with the public rail way trains tends to have these clean and regularly maintained cabins. International trains are even more luxurious than those short-journey trains. They have cabins especially for sleeping and even bars for small gatherings. Most trains in China go under a subway, so there weren't many views to be expected aside from the solid stone walls on both sides of the train.

As time went pass, the train plunges way deeper into the dark confinements of the subway – only lighted by its own electrical bulbs, and seeming a glowing worm inside another worm's huge stony body. I am quite reassured that I am heading safely towards where I am intended go, so I put on my headphones and began listening to my favorite band – the _Final Bliss_. They're a band of three with the mixture of Ska and country music, I found out about them when we move in into Sweden four years ago. Ever since, I've been a huge fan of them.

I stared outside my window, trying to paint pictures on the black swerving wall from the other side of the glass case of my cabin, allowing my mind to wander off somewhere else. But then, the most curious things began to appear in front of my eyes.

The darkness of the subway broke into a well lighted open ground, blinding me temporarily. Seconds passed, and as my sight finally adjusted to the light, I realized that the train is crossing above the sea literally. The sea, seeming limitless on both side appear so peaceful and beautiful with the waves rolling gently as the wind caresses it – several tiny cripples against its smooth emerald surface. Where am I? Basically, Beijing is being surrounded by land, and a train can't possibly cross over water, or at least the train I used to ride to go to school.

"Now what?" I asked myself as panic dawns over me. I must've been in the wrong train. But there couldn't be any other train, there're just two of them, the other one going to the opposite side. I wanted to ask someone about it, but the problem is that I'm absolutely alone at my cabin, and what should I ask them about on the first place? "Uhhm excuse me, the train seems to be over the sea right now. Can you tell me where we're goin?" No, not that kind of question.

I tried to check on other cabins, but I can't find anybody in them – only the vacant seats and the view outside the window, which has entirely changed by now – it changed into a snowy terrain, with snow capped mountains for the backdrop, a blizzard whipping fiercely outside. Every other minute, the view outside seem to change. Panic finally reached its highest peak on my mind, "Can't be a dream." I closed my eyes then tried to pinch my face hard, I felt the sharp pain on my cheek, waited for a few seconds, then opened my eyes once again, but I wasn't on my bed, I'm still standing at the same spot as I remembered. "No, this cant be real." I run towards very front cabin on which the control room and a driver's suppose to be in. I reached it panting, my heart pumping wildly on my chest, "What on earth is going on here? Where is everyone! HEEY!" I called out desperately, but no one replied.

When I finally able to reached the control room, I feel as if I've been pulled out a terrible joke. There wasn't anyone driving train. The lights of the control panel, however, are all functioning and blinking as if someone's actually controlling them. I gapped at the buttons, dumbfounded.

"_Arriving at forth port death's door station._" an announcement suddenly broke my temporary trance, only to realize that the train itself is slowing in speed, "_This train will continue towards Kali's harvest ground end. Please don't forget to check you're personal belongings before getting out of the train, thank you._"

I don't see how the announcer could speak somewhere else other than the control room which I am currently in to, and with the microphone stuck on its stand right at the train's dashboard. Could it be voice recorded? "Who are you?" I attempted yet another call. No one responded.

I decided to check the other cabins, but just as I get out of the control room, hundreds of passengers were already filling in the first cabin on which awhile ago is as empty as I ever imagined it – having no space to walk in at all. Where did this many people came from all of a sudden? I'm not claustrophobic but having no space to breathe in is another story. The train passengers seem to increase even more as the train came closer to its destination, thinking that the train hasn't stopped yet.


End file.
